


The Tale of CinderRodney and the Fairy

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fractured fairy tale. Cinderella may never be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of CinderRodney and the Fairy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for casa_mcshep in 2011  
> Special thanks to Mischief for her encouragement and support.

Rodney added the final touches to his diagram with care, and gave a pleased hum. The new ink he’d developed worked well, although he itched to fix its tendency to smear and clump at the most awkward of times. No doubt, the problem lay in the design of the quill’s tip and not in his ink.

He’d tried to create a better writing implement, but despite his numerous attempts, the problems persisted. He’d even tried with different materials. Taking the gold clasp off his stepfather’s money belt and reworking the metal might have worked –if he hadn’t been caught before he could smelt it down. Rodney rubbed his backside tenderly. Honestly, some people had no appreciation of scientific advancement.

He picked up the invitation delivered yesterday and inspected its artful scroll. The calligraphy was impeccable but – Rodney tsked – the ink used was inferior to his. Rodney studied it carefully; naturally, he was only keeping it for purposes of scientific comparison. Besides, the heavy parchment was better than anything Rodney had at his disposal. If he ran his fingertips over the words _Royal Ball_ with a wistful sigh, well – the only ones who would know were he and Monsieur Radek, and Radek didn’t count because he was a mouse. 

Radek was strangely good company. His beady little eyes often watched as Rodney worked on his engineering designs, and he chittered away as if fascinated by Rodney’s work. 

When an early attempt at a bellows-driven broom exploded dirt all over the both of them, Radek had barely twitched a whisker. Instead, he’d curled one paw up under his chin and given every sign of listening as Rodney talked out loud about the foul difficulties he would indeed overcome. Eventually.

He’s been Rodney’s pet for months now, ever since Rodney found him shivering in the far corner of his workroom, tail curled around his middle as if he were trying to keep warm. He’d taken pity on the little fellow and coaxed him over to the fire with a piece of cheese. After that, Radek made a home for himself on the shelf over Rodney’s workbench. 

Rodney reached out a cautious finger and stroked the baby soft fur between the mouse’s ears. “Lucky for you, monsieur,” he said with a flourish of one hand. “I had these cheese crumbs in my pocket.” He brushed the dry crumbles onto the shelf in front of Radek. With an affectionate shake of his finger, he added, “You just eat up like a good little rodent and I’ll make a full size mouse out of you yet.” Rodney tightened his belt and looked wistfully over at the bread and boiled eggs he had to make last all day. “At least one of us should get a good meal.” 

He brushed the long, blond bangs out of his eyes, looping a stray curl behind his ear. He still felt graceless and gawky at nineteen, well past an age – according to his stepfather -- when he was expected settle down with a wealthy wife or a suitable trade. But Rodney couldn’t see how the past year had filled out his frame. His broad shoulders were beginning to reach their promise as his muscles turned from lanky to sturdy and defined.

"What do you think, Radek?" Rodney asked. He reread the invitation one more time. "It does say, _and family_. Is it a disaster in the making? It's no secret I'm no social butterfly but this ball could be my best chance to secure a patron."

He sighed. Rodney knew full well his stepfather would never allow him to go. When the baron had first married the widow McKay, Rodney’s life hadn’t changed too much; it was even a little better. His mother relished her new title of Baroness, and while Rodney had privately worried that the Baron of Asuras had married her just for money, she seemed happy enough.

His new stepsisters, however, had taken some getting used to. Rodney's mouth curved down at the thought because high maintenance didn’t even begin to cover it. Two more opposites in temperament would be hard to find but one thing his sisters did agree on – they both got pleasure out of relegating Rodney to drudge status.

Teer managed to be both quietly demanding and insipid. Twenty minutes after she arrived at the McKay estate, Rodney became convinced she could guilt an innocent man into an early death. He stayed away from her as much as possible. 

Chaya, on the other hand, could charm a man with her smile. Brazen, temperamental, and far more ambitious than her sister, she delighted in finding inventive ways to make Rodney’s life a living hell. If anyone could actually coerce the prince in to marriage, it would be her. Rodney shuddered at the thought. Royal influence in Chaya’s greedy hands was just asking for trouble. 

"As much as I hate to admit it, Radek, my stepsisters do clean up prettily." Rodney smiled and waggled a finger at the little mouse. "But not as pretty as Prince Cameron. I saw him once, you know. He was riding past the orchard." Rodney continued with a dreamy sigh, "I’ve never seen anyone sit a horse quite so finely. He could have been born to the saddle. I’ll never forget his shoulders or the way his thighs – oh, never mind – It's not like I have any chance with him."

In fact, he nearly snorted at the idea. He’d be a fool to think that this high event was anything other than a marriage mart. It was the only logical explanation for why Rodney’s family received an invitation to the royal court. His stepsisters were of marriageable age, a decent pedigree, and not completely ugly. 

"What do you think, Radek, should I try to go, even if it’s just to warn the prince about what horrid wives my sisters would make? It's not as if I've any chance with him. He needs to find someone to marry so that he can beget lots of little princes."

Rodney didn’t want commitment anyway. His theories and experiments took up most of his day, although a dalliance had possibilities. Rodney wasn’t quite sure what exactly a dalliance entailed but suspected it was one of those things like a "je ne sais quoi."

Chaya often came home with blotches on her neck after one of her carriage rides to the market. Rodney had noticed similar marks on her groomsman. Once, he’d caught Rodney staring and yanked at his shirt but no matter how high he pulled his collar it didn’t cover the round bruises. Rodney suspected they had something to do with dalliance and he wondered if it hurt. Still, if Chaya's dazed grin was anything to go by, it certainly seemed worth it. 

"You know, I can arrange it so that you can go to that." 

The soft words came from behind Rodney. He jumped and spun on his heel, bringing him almost nose to nose with a complete stranger. Rodney stared into amused, green eyes and forgot to breathe. 

"Where did you sneak up from?" 

"Oh, here. There. You know…" He lazily circled a finger in the air. "Around."

Rodney gawked. Tall and lanky, this unwelcome interloper smiled with a quirk of his mouth and a twinkle in his eye. His tangle of dark hair made Rodney itch to smooth it down with his fingers. He drove every thought of Rodney's about Prince Cameron, far, far away.

"If you're here to rob me, you've picked the wrong person. There's nothing of value here." Rodney snatched up his designs and the invitation and held them close to his chest. "Just move along and go scare someone else out of their wits."

The man had the effrontery to lean against Rodney's workbench. "Now why would you think I'm here to rob you?" he asked.

"You snuck up on me -- and you're dressed all in black. It looks very suspicious."

"Black?" The stranger looked down at his clothing then back up at Rodney with a grin. "Trust me, it’ll catch on."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "If you're not here to rob me, you could at least grace me with your name."

"Call me John." He leaned over and poked a finger at Rodney’s dry bread and boiled eggs. "Is this the only fare you have to eat? It hardly seems hearty enough for a growing young man." 

John’s gaze slid slowly from Rodney’s feet all the way up to his eyes and then he smiled.

"Oh. Well, um…" Rodney’s skin felt hot and his palms inexplicably sweaty under John’s gaze but he drew in a breath and continued. "You see, the cook quit and I have to fend for myself now. If I don’t get up early, make something quick and get out of the kitchen, my sisters will expect me to serve them breakfast. The last time, the oatmeal broke the window when Chaya threw it."

John raised an eyebrow. "Broke the window?"

Rodney looked down at his toes. "It’s possible it was a tad overcooked. I was somewhat distracted by da Vinci’s mathematical equations. I’d just gotten a copy you see, after trying for months, and math is so much more fundamentally important than porridge. 

"Teer and Chaya are bright enough to understand Bacon’s empirical method, if they’d apply themselves to more than the latest fashions." Rodney sighed. "It's all hair-combs, lace, and 'does this match the color of my eyes' with those two. It's incomprehensible and painful beyond admitting."

"Let me guess." John hitched on hip on the table and smiled at Rodney. "You …"

"Tried to explain how agonizing their trivial pursuits were to witness?" Rodney cleared his throat. "Yes."

"So," John said. "Are you always this good with people or is it just your step-family?"

Rodney gave John his best glare. "Are we done?"

"Nope. You're my assignment. Besides, I like it here." He shrugged. "As a temporary measure."

"Well, it can't be for the food."

"You're right," John said. He gave Rodney another one of those slow head to toe looks that made the heat rise on the back of Rodney's neck, and smiled. "It's not for the food."

Swallowing hard, and doing his best to ignore the way John's gaze on him made him feel off-balance, Rodney lifted his chin. "Assignment?"

"I'm here to work a little magic, McKay. I'm going to make sure you go to the Ball. Now, then," John clapped his hands together, "We're going to have to put a bit of polish on your manners as well as your boots if we’re going to make you suitable for your introduction to Prince Cam." 

"Prince Cam? Not Cameron? Isn’t that taking a rather bold liberty? I don’t think you should be nicknaming Royalty at a whim," Rodney said, horrified. "Who are you, anyway, and why do you want to help me?"

"Oh, didn’t I tell you?" John asked. "I’m your fairy godfather’s cousin – seven times removed."

"What?" Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "Does that even make any sense?"

John leaned over and whispered low in Rodney’s ear. "It does in the Fairy Kingdom. Trust me. “

“Fairy. Land.” Rodney bowed his head and put his hand over his eyes. "Just let the ground swallow me up, now. “

He peeked at John through his fingers and his bastardized fairy godfather-cousin-something had the nerve to grin back at him.

"By the time I'm done, Rodney, good ol' Camshaft won't know what hit him." 

"Cam…shaft? Heaven spare me." Rodney glared at John. "Of course, I'd get the defective fairy. You're probably some escapee from La-La land and your nonchalant attitude is going to get me thrown into prison. Or hanged."

"Relax, Meredith. No one is going to throw you in to prison. Besides, I've got plenty of fairy dust to cover that contingency."

"Who told you my full name?"

John waggled his eyebrows. "Fairy prerogative. When we're on assignment, we know what we need to know. Besides, I kind of like the name Meredith." 

John put his arm over Rodney’s shoulder and pulled him close. The gesture was casual but Rodney couldn’t stop the heat from rising in his cheeks.

~~~~

That's how Rodney found himself in his bedroom with a complete stranger rummaging through his wardrobe. 

"This is all you have for clothes?" John stood with his hands on his hips, scowling down at the garments he’d scattered across Rodney's bed. "Your stepfather is a Baron. Hasn’t it occurred to him or anyone else in your household that you need to dress appropriately for your station?" John rubbed his fingers across the coarse weave of Rodney's best doublet and sighed. "There’s nothing for it, then; I’ll have to magic your entire outfit for the ball." 

Rodney stood with his arms crossed over his chest. "So, this fairyland business – you being a fairy, as you claim – where are your wings, exactly?" 

"Exactly? Well, that’s a long story. Not every kind of fairy has wings, you know. Some of us don’t need them. In fact..." John rolled up on his toes with a bounce and a smirk. "Where I come from, it’s the horses that fly." 

Rodney pinched the bridge of his nose. "You expect me to believe that? Honestly, this whole thing is completely ridiculous, including this insistence of yours that I go to the ball."

"Absolutely ridiculous – except for the part where you really want to go." John grew serious. "Meredith Rodney McKay, I’m your fairy godfather. More or less. And I know what’s in your heart." John poked Rodney square in the chest with one finger. "You. Want. To. Go."

Rodney bit his lip, nervously. "Are you sure? It would be nice to believe but…" He narrowed his eyes at John. "You're not going to make me wear all black are you?"

"No, Rodney, I have something else in mind. Trust me." John grinned. “By the time I’m done, you'll outshine your sisters and the Prince won’t be able to take his eyes off you. Hmm…" John tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I imagine I'll have to show you how to dance as well."

"Oh, God. Dance? I don't think…" Rodney protested, knowing he was all gangly elbows and knees.

"Now, now, none of that. Besides, that's why I'm here. What kind of fairy godfather's cousin eight times removed would I be if I let you go to the ball unprepared?"

"What? I thought you said you were my fairy godfather’s cousin seven times removed."

John waved a hand through the air. "It's a fairy thing. Don't worry about it."

"Don’t worry? You might as well ask for a lightning bolt to leap from the sky and strike me dead. Can't you just, oh, I don't know, magic me?" 

"Some of it, yes. Clothes, transportation – as long as it falls under Magical Appearances – I could even make you appear graceful but that's only going to work until you step on your dance partner's toes. It won’t be that bad." John smiled. "Have you had _any_ lessons in the finer arts, Rodney?"

The gentleness in John's voice was the only thing that kept Rodney from fleeing on the spot. John was looking at him, so determined, confident, and apparently completely ready to risk his toes, that Rodney found himself agreeing to try. 

John slipped a hand onto his shoulder, smiling. "Well then, there's no time like the present, my friend." He led Rodney down the stairs and through the garden gate where rose bushes, grown wild from neglect, hid them from casual view. "We'll have more room to maneuver here.” 

Standing under the noonday sun, beams of sunlight gilded John with their warm kiss. Rodney sighed. As if the fairy-man wasn't already beautiful enough, now he practically glowed with golden warmth. Rodney groaned softly and dismayed of ever getting through this day without embarrassing himself. At least here, concealed as they were, he wouldn't have to put up with Teer's snotty distain over his lack of grace. It wasn't as if Rodney had meant to break her favorite mirror. Or her china dog. Who put a rug down where it could be tripped over, anyway? 

Then John snapped his fingers. At first, Rodney couldn't tell what he'd done and then, softly, note by note, a composition began to form. It was bird song and crickets chirping. It was the wind in the trees, the murmur of water passing over stones, and the rustle of small creatures in the tall grass. Other sounds too subtle to discern added their voice and magic wove it all together in a gentle symphony.

Nature provided the music, and for the first time in his life, Rodney was too amazed to question. "Oh. You -- you really are a…"

"Yes, I am." John held out his hand. "Now then, if we're going to do this right, you need to relax."

John kept it simple, for which Rodney was extremely grateful. He'd always considered himself an exceptionally quick learner, but in this endeavor, he seemed to have two left feet. John leaning into him didn't help. Guiding the dance with his hands on Rodney's hips, the fairy would tilt his head and smile at Rodney, the merry glint in his eye half concealed by his eyelashes. Whenever John looked at him like that, Rodney caught his breath and forgot the dance steps every damn time. If he didn't know better, he'd swear John was doing it on purpose.

"You have to come!" Rodney blurted. 

John stopped short and Rodney's chest bumped against him before he could halt his momentum. "I have to – come?"

"Come to the ball. With me."

"That's not usually done." John cocked his head. "Hmm, there aren't any specific rules against it. Are you sure? I wouldn't want to cramp your style."

"Cramp my style? What does that even mean? Oh never mind, I'm sure that's more Fairyland vernacular for 'how to be excruciatingly annoying'." 

"What about Prince Cameron?" John asked.

"I just want to show him my work. I don’t want to get into his fancy breeches." 

"Un-huh."

"Well, not that badly. I admit I'm curious, although it's not as if we'd – in front of all those people – his parents are going to be there, for heaven's sake." Rodney paused at the sight of John's skeptical eyebrow. "Forget I said any of that. Mere idle speculation, honest. I'd much rather have you there with me, John. Please?" Rodney smiled. "Don't make me resort to fluttering my eyelashes at you." 

John laughed, loud and delighted. "You can flutter any thing you want to at me, Rodney. I'd be honored to escort you to the Royal Ball."

Rodney's dance lesson ended at dusk. His mastery was still shaky but he left the garden with lingering heat of John's arm around his waist and a smile.

~~~~

Rodney paced the small workroom. "Where is he, monsieur mouse? He promised to be here to help. Teer and Chaya are already dressed and getting their hair done." 

Radek twitched his ears back at him from his favorite corner of the workbench.

With a huff of disgust, Rodney continued, "I barely managed to escape fetch and carry duty and get away. You would not believe how crazy everyone is acting up at the main house. I think my mother really believes one of my stepsisters will be chosen…" 

"Nervous?" 

Rodney spun on his heel and found himself staring into John's pretty eyes. "I swear, if you don't stop sneaking up on me, I'm going to tie a bell on you." 

John cocked his head and grinned. "You always want to know where I am, hmm. Careful. I just might take you up on that."

Feeling his face heat up, Rodney took a half step back to put some space between them. "What's in the trunk?"

"Finery suitable for a royal ball, of course," John answered, opening the lid with a flourish. "Go ahead, try it on. We've got a lot to do yet if you're going to arrive in style." 

"Us – arrive – together," Rodney reminded him. "You promised and I'm not letting you back out of it."

Rodney reached out and touched the rich fabric. The soft velvet crushed under his fingers. The royal blue tunic, offset with sleeves of pale gold brocade tailored flawlessly left no doubt in his mind that it would fit. "For me? I thought something more…" his voice trailed off as he reached out and touched the clothing again.

Hands on his hips, John smiled. "Something – what, monsieur Meredith? Something tawdry? Or something common? Something like what you're wearing now?"

Rodney looked down at his own grease-stained apron. Some of the marks were unidentifiable. He pinched the rough cloth, giving it a closer look. At some point, he must have gotten too close to a fire because there were a dozen scorch marks decorating it. He shrugged. "I suppose I never actually thought about it."

"Let me guess, you thought you’d go as you are, march in with your precious plans in hand and coerce the prince into listening to you?"

"Yes?"

John raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think the royal family might have an objection to that? Not to mention the royal guards?" With a smile, John added, "Come here, and let's get you dressed for a party."

There was much tugging and tucking, smoothing and fitting. John insisted on helping – attentive in a way that it made it hard for Rodney to think. It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that he didn't need his leg fondled quite so much in the fine material but he ended up swallowing the words as he gazed down at John's bent neck.

"Now then," John straightened up with a final tug on Rodney's doublet, "it’s time for the next kind of magic."

The words whispered seductively soft against his ear and Rodney shivered. "Next kind?"

"Mmmm. Just watch," John answered. "That squirrel hanging out in your oak tree will be just the thing. Did you bring the pumpkin?"  
Rodney nodded. "It’s out by the tree like you asked."

"Excellent." Without further ado, John took Rodney by the elbow and led him outside. Nodding in approval, he snapped his fingers and a sparkle of dust swirled around both pumpkin and squirrel, hiding the transformation from Rodney's view. When the dust settled, an elegant coach and steed stood in their place.

Rodney stared in wonder. "I have got to figure out how you do that!"

"There’s one more thing,” John said. “Your little pet, bring him here and put him down by the carriage." 

~~~~

Radek sat perfectly still as John snapped his fingers one more time and the mouse was transformed into a coachman. Rodney watched as Radek straightened up and checked the fit of his clothes with a bemused, sweet smile. If this mouse was coachman, he was certainly a coachman of distinction. No, Rodney mused, he was more than that. He was sure he’d figure it out before the night was done, assuming he had any sanity left.

"We're going to the ball in a squirrel-drawn _pumpkin_." Rodney shook his head. "I don't even know what to say to that." His complaints dried up as he looked at his fairy-godfather's cousin several times removed. John looked resplendent in black and silver. "You changed."

John smoothed a hand down over his chest. "Like it?"

Rodney nodded, mouth too dry for words.

Moments later, John had Rodney settled in the carriage and had tucked himself cozily beside him. Rodney didn't mind sitting so close together their thighs touched but he did wonder if there was something wrong with his hair. The whole ride, John kept winding one of Rodney's long curls around his finger as if fascinated by it. Rodney finally decided it must be a peculiarity of fairy kind. Besides, he admitted with a soft sigh, it felt rather nice. Was this a – dalliance?

~~~~

"That was supposed to be my dance." Rodney looked on wistfully as Prince Cam guided Teer onto the dance floor. "Well, at least the prince seemed interested in my designs if that glazed look in his eye was anything to go by. Did he look pale to you?"

With a hand on the small of his back, John led Rodney to a private alcove. They stood on its small balcony with the stars above them as fireflies flittered over the Queen’s garden below.

"How much time do we have left?" Rodney asked. 

John nodded to ballroom's big clock and Rodney peeked over his shoulder. "That says four minutes to midnight. Midnight? That’s it? That’s all I’ve got?” 

"Hey, you got to show off your ideas to the prince; that’s more than you expected."

"Point taken. What happens next?"

"Well, when the clock strikes twelve your finery goes back to being milkweed silk and enchanted dust."

"Oh god – I’m going to be naked! You never said…"

John held up one hand. “Hey, temporary spells are all they give us to work with. Don’t blame the fairy, here. You have to be something like a fairy General to get spells to stick for years.”

Rodney continued to panic. “What about the carriage and Radek?” 

"The carriage will turn back into a pumpkin, the horse back to a squirrel and…" John rubbed the back of his neck. "I’m afraid Lady Elizabeth is in for a surprise when Radek turns back into a mouse."

“Oh, that’s bad. Isn’t there some way to save him?” 

"Save him?" John asked. "Do you mean…"

"That I figured it out? Of course, I did. Radek was already under some spell, he’s a Count or something, turned into a mouse not the other way around. I mean, look at him. He’s too proficient in his manners and language for rodent-kind. Radek had Lady Elizabeth out on the floor dancing the galliard before the music had barely started. He hasn't let out one squeak since he changed, whereas that stupid horse kept trying to climb a tree. Isn't there something we can do for him?" 

"In three minutes?" John looked doubtful.

"What about a kiss?" Rodney asked. "It works for frogs, doesn’t it?"

"Hmm, maybe that could work." John paused, thinking. "It would be like..."

"Undoing a wrong!" Rodney beamed. "Okay, now how do we get her to kiss him? We need mistletoe or sleeping dwarves or something, right?"

"Sleeping dwarves?" John raised both eyebrows. "No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know what kind of stories you’ve heard."

Rodney ignored John. He stepped out from the alcove and began giving frantic hand signals to his former pet mouse. 

John winced. "I don’t think that hand signal means kiss, Rodney. You’d better quit while you’re ahead. C’mon, buddy, you’ve got less than a minute. Time to go." 

The clock stuck once and with the ring of the bell in his ear, Rodney yelped and made a mad dash to the door. The guards stood aside as if everyday a fair gentleman made a headlong dash down the entryway and into the courtyard below. 

John followed behind and Rodney just knew he was grinning. Fairy bastard. Peeking out from behind one of the Queen’s hedges, Rodney breathed a sigh of relief when John walked up to him.

"I noticed, Mr. Fairy, you didn’t hurry out the door."

"Hey," John said with a saunter in his voice. "In case you didn’t notice, I still have my clothes on."

"This is so unfair." Rodney stood in the night air with nothing but his delicate linen small clothes and the diagrams he’d hung onto in his mad dash out the door.

John gave him another one of those long, slow looks. "Oh, I don’t know about that – it looks pretty fair to me."

On the verge of stamping his foot, Rodney paused. He was barefoot, and it was likely to be painful. "Now what am I supposed to do?"

Before John had a chance to answer, Count Zelenka came running up with a thick velvet cloak in his arms. 

"Radek, you sly dog." John grinned. "How did you get Lady Elizabeth to kiss you?"

Radek beamed. "I have ways. And according to milady, courtly charm. I daresay anyone witnessing the kiss would consider it scandalous. Fortunately, milady had a very large fan to conceal us from prying eyes. Here, Rodney." Radek held out the cloak. "I saw you leave so I took this from the coatroom. I thought you might have need of it and I see I was right. Perhaps you should hurry before its owner misses it."

Rodney grabbed the cloak and wrapped it around himself with a stunned, "Thank you." He looked up at John, "How are we going to get back to my workshop without a carriage?"

Radek leaned forward and laid a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Lady Elizabeth has offered the use of one of her horses. You can double up, yes? Good. There is a stable hand readying one for you now."

"Why?" Rodney asked. "Why would you go out of your way to help me like this?"

Radek sighed. "You are a good man, Rodney, but you have been treated too callously by your family for too long. You are not the only one who can perform simple acts of kindness. I would have surely died without your care." A dimple peeked out of hiding as he added, "Besides, your experiments have made these last few months very entertaining."

~~~~

Rodney wanted to remember the ride back for a long time. John sat snugged up behind him with his arms around Rodney's middle. Every once in awhile, he would lean forward and whisper some amusing wit or embarrassing story about the Royal Family or one of the guests. Overhead, the night sky was full of stars and the summer night caressed a warm scented breeze against his skin. It was a night made for magic and it was the easiest thing in the world to lean back into John's arms. 

~~~~

John sat on the workbench, swinging his legs and behaving just as though Rodney had nothing to be nervous about. Unable to stand it another minute he blurted, "It's been three days. Do you think he’s going to come find me? Prince Cameron, I mean. I showed him my very best designs, surely he’ll want to – oh no."

"What is it, Rodney?"

"I forgot to leave anything behind. Didn't you say that's how this is supposed to work? I leave something behind that’s a clue and the prince uses it to finds me?" Rodney twisted his hands together. "I can’t believe it. You went to all this trouble to get me there and I even looked good. You think I looked good, right?" Rodney didn’t give John time to answer before adding, "He’s never going to be able to find me."

"Rodney, it’s going to be okay. I can always work a little magic if I need to, but I won’t. You did leave something behind and Price Cameron will find you just fine."

"What? I have all my diagrams and there weren’t any stupid slippers to leave…"

"Nope. You left something bigger than that." John was smiling. "You seem to have forgotten that you left a Count behind and Radek will tell the prince exactly where to find you."

"Oh." 

"But," John continued, "are you sure this is what you want?"

Rodney looked at John, baffled. 

"This hasn't been about making sure you go to a royal event," John said. He moved closer to Rodney. "I came here to help you find your one true love, and I know for a fact that it’s not Prince Cameron.”

Rodney swallowed. "You do?"

"I do." John crossed his arms and looked fiercer than Rodney had ever seen him. "In fact, if good ol’ Prince Cam rode up on a white steed right this minute, I wouldn’t let him near you."

"Really?"

"Really, truly, Rodney."

John mouth was a half inch away from kissing his when Rodney put a hand on John's chest to stop him. Rodney sputtered, "But – but we can’t! You’re a fairy! At least tell me you're not my godfather's anything."

With a smile, John kissed Rodney's cheek. "I gave it all up for true love, Rodney. Now, I'm just your regular fairy who can't wait to take you for a ride on a flying horse. That work for you?"

"Surprisingly well, actually." 

Their lips met in the first kiss of true love and it was magic. There were many more kisses after that. Many of them took place in a flying city where they invited Count Radek and his bride Elizabeth to their wedding. 

Naturally, as is the way with fairy tales, they lived happily ever after. How could they not? Especially after John quite thoroughly taught Rodney the many and varied nuances of _je ne sais quoi._

~*~


End file.
